Chapter 459 This is Really Strange
Just as Marlowe expected Grant to erupt in anger, his expression softened unexpectedly. "We need to talk," he said evenly.
She hesitated before firmly refusing, "I'm sorry; we have nothing to discuss."
"We need to get home. Excuse us," she added, tugging at Elliot's arm.
Even without her verbal refusal, her face clearly communicated her unwillingness to engage.
"Elliot, let's go," Marlowe said, her tone noticeably gentle when addressing him—a stark contrast to the fear and coldness she displayed toward Grant.
The difference in her demeanor was obvious to everyone present.
"You're carrying my child and going home with another man?" Grant's voice hardened. "Marlowe, am I too lenient, or have I become too accommodating?"
Without hesitation, she fired back, "Who told you this child is yours?"
Her words hit everyone like a thunderbolt.
Victoria and the others had just emerged from the room in time to hear this exchange.
"Marlowe's baby isn't Grant's?" Owen murmured in disbelief.
But no one looked more devastated than Grant himself.
"What did you say? Say that again!" His eyes blazed with barely contained fury, his words coming through clenched teeth as he struggled to control his rage.
Marlowe, seemingly indifferent to his emotional state, deliberately twisted the knife further.
"I said, yes, I'm pregnant—but not with your child!" She enunciated each word clearly, as if ensuring he wouldn't misunderstand.
Grant's jaw muscles tensed visibly. "So you're telling me the child you're carrying is his?" He glared at Elliot, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, with a look that could kill.
"Since you've figured it out, there's nothing more to say," Marlowe replied coolly. "Let go of me. We're going home."
Elliot, though slightly taken aback at being used as Marlowe's excuse to rebuff Grant, played along without complaint.
He addressed Grant directly, "Mr. Scott, please release her. Marlowe has delicate skin, and your grip is too tight. Besides, in her condition, emotional distress could harm the baby."
Though Elliot spoke with his usual gentleness, his words carried weight. They struck Grant like a slap to the face.
To any uninformed observer, Elliot would appear to be Marlowe's concerned husband, while Grant seemed like an intruder. After all, a real husband would know these things about his pregnant wife.
Grant looked at Marlowe, but her gaze was deliberately averted. Her face clearly conveyed her stance.
He didn't release her wrist, but neither did he speak nor move. He simply held on, though Marlowe could feel his grip had loosened slightly. She only frowned slightly but said nothing.
The three remained frozen in this awkward tableau until Victoria stepped forward to break the impasse.
Later, in the hospital room, Victoria and Marlowe found themselves alone, everyone else having been sent out by Victoria.
"Marlowe, I'm so sorry..."
"Victoria, this isn't your fault, truly," Marlowe interrupted. "I knew I would see him eventually. It was only a matter of time. I just didn't expect it to be now." Her smile carried a hint of bitterness.
Victoria didn't hide anything. She admitted to telling Grant about Marlowe's planned visit to the hospital and recounted yesterday's conversation with him word for word.
Marlowe listened without visible reaction.
"Victoria," she repeated, "you don't need to feel sorry. I don't blame you for what happened today. As for Grant and me, I'll handle it myself. Just focus on recovering and don't worry about my situation."
With Marlowe's position so clearly stated, Victoria didn't press further.
"If you need anything, please tell me," Victoria said, glancing at Marlowe's belly. "After all, I am the child's godmother."
For the first time, Marlowe smiled genuinely, placing a hand on her stomach. "I will."
They chatted for another half hour before Marlowe emerged from the room, her demeanor transformed—except for her continued coldness toward Grant.
"Elliot, let's go," she said.
When Grant saw that she wouldn't even look at him, he was about to speak, but she turned to him first.
Her expression instantly hardened. "Mr. Scott, if you want to talk, fine. I'll send you the location tomorrow. Today, I'm tired. I don't want to talk, and I don't want to see you."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and left.
Elliot nodded respectfully to Alexander before following her.
Grant wanted to pursue her, but Marlowe's final words seemed to weigh him down like an anchor. Whether unable or afraid to move, he watched helplessly as she departed with another man.
Kevin observed the scene in astonishment. When had Marlowe become so formidable? And Grant, so compliant? It was an incredible transformation.
Would there be more surprises like this in the future? Kevin wondered silently.
Alexander glanced at Grant as he walked back to the hospital room. Pausing beside him, he patted Grant's shoulder and said simply, "Progress."
Owen nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, in the car, Elliot asked Marlowe, "Do you need me to find you a new place?"
Marlowe took a deep breath and turned to him. "I'm sorry, Elliot. I used you back there."
Elliot chuckled softly. "Between us, no apologies are necessary."
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "About changing locations—not yet. Some things need to be resolved first."
Elliot didn't try to persuade her otherwise. Whatever she decided was fine with him.
On the evening of the birthday celebration at Hearst Castle, Alexander and Victoria arrived fashionably late at seven o'clock.
While others had dressed formally for the occasion, Victoria wore a simple white t-shirt and black casual pants. Her hair was loosely tied back, her face free of makeup, and her hand still bandaged as she sat in a wheelchair—a stark contrast to the elegant setting.
Yet because of the distinguished man standing behind her, she still drew attention.
She tilted her head back to look at Alexander teasingly. "Darling, it seems without you, I'd be completely overlooked tonight."
Alexander bent down to meet her gaze and gently ruffled her hair. "Then be overlooked for tonight. I'm not in the mood for jealousy."
She giggled. "But what if I am? What then?"
With mock seriousness, he replied, "The car hasn't left yet. We could still make our escape."
Marcus, Kimberly, Winter, and the others who had accompanied them watched silently as the couple flaunted their affection.
Just then, an ill-timed voice interrupted, "Alexander, Ms. Kennedy, you've arrived."
Waverly approached them, swaying gracefully in a champagne-colored strapless gown and high heels. She was undeniably beautiful, projecting elegance and sensuality.
Standing before Victoria, Waverly certainly commanded more attention. After all, people's eyes were naturally drawn to dazzling sights first.
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